Personal Log 151: 18 January, 3303
02 Jul 2017Jemine Caesar
18 January, 3303The 17th of January was grandpapa Barnes' eighty-seventh birthday. He was content to let it pass with a minimum of fuss, aware that his wife's full attention was focussed on preparations for the wrap party the following day.
"Return To Star's End" was essentially an updating of "Star's End", an old holosoap about everyday life on a fictional starport. My mother had appeared in the series for four years prior to giving birth to me. The original long-running series had been immensely popular in the Empire, even counting the late Emperor Harold Duval amongst its fans. However, ailing viewing figures brought its monumental run to a close in 3275. The final episode culminated in the total destruction of the Star's End starport after a capital ship dropped out of witchspace and exploded inside it.
But hardcore fans had never forgotten the show, and campaigned long and loud for its revival. Eventually the powers-that-be decided the time was ripe to resurrect the show and, early in 3302, commissioned a team of scriptwriters to give the old soap a new lease of life.
Ingenious ways had been invented to bring back a number of the more popular original characters, despite their having been aboard the starport at the time of its complete obliteration. One such character was Isabella Eppingham-Wincanton, an Imperial diplomat played in suitably haughty fashion by my mother under her professional name of Rebekka Thorne. Another was Sandrine the starport tart, played by the then twenty year old Cheryl Maughan-Pike. Sam, accompanied by Nathalie Hudson, had met her at Wyrd during the search for my real father.
Taking the form of a six-part mini-series, "Return To Star's End" was to be an attempt to test the public appetite for a longer series to be made on the back of it. "Return To Star's End" was also my mother's showbusiness comeback, ending a retirement of just over thirty years.
"Now do remember, darling," she whispered as we swept into Hannibal's Bar, "you simply must not refer to me as 'mother'. As far as everyone is concerned, you're my granddaughter."
I gave her an icy stare. "Of course I won't, grandmama. I'm not stupid."
My mind went back to October 3301. It was then that I had learned that the woman I had always known as grandmama was in fact my biological mother, and that mama, the woman who had raised me from birth, was actually my own half-sister. I was the product of a one-night-stand between my mother and a former lover, Edward Harvard. It was all rather complicated.
Hannibal's Bar was the finest venue on Marker Depot, and had been taken over by the "Star's End" production company for the wrap party. For what was ostensibly just a last get-together for a bunch of actors and holovid technicians, the party was typically Imperial in its grandeur. The bar had been lavishly decorated with balloons and banners and new lighting installed. Flamboyantly fashionable clothes could be seen at every turn, and the buffet table was crowded with all sorts of delicacies. A live orchestra unobtrusively played instrumental versions of popular songs, including "Why Me?" by the late Wy. Even the Imperial Ambassador to Carthage put in a brief appearance, professing himself an ardent fan of the original series at every opportunity.
Mother— that is, grandmama— introduced Sam and me to each and every member of the "Star's End" cast and crew with a cheery "This is my darling granddaughter, Jemine, and her charming fiancé, Samuel." I tried to tell her that Sam and I weren't engaged, but she wouldn't listen.
Each member of the cast greeted me warmly, and then proceeded to tell me all about themselves at great length. This included Cheryl Maughan-Pike, who had reprised her role as Sandrine the starport tart. Being now in her fifties, the character had been upgraded by the script writers from tart to brothel madam. Cheryl Maughan-Pike seemed not to recognise Sam from their previous meeting.
The party wore on; overly made up actors and actresses swanned around effusively congratulating oneother, directors and studio executives enthusiastically discussed forthcoming projects, and technicians gleefully propped up the bar for the free drinks.
"Ah, here's Norbert," said grandmama, propelling me towards yet another impeccably dressed man. Norbert was in his late sixties, with a shock of silvery hair and a leery smile. "Norbert, this is Jemine Caesar, my granddaughter. Jemine, this is Norbert Nicolson."
She said his name as though I should recognise it, but it meant absolutely nothing to me. I guessed he must have been someone quite important, though.
"How delightful to meet you, Miss Caesar," said Norbert. "Your grandmother has told me so much about you."
"Really?" I said, blinking in mild surprise. "Such as?"
"Why, that you are a talented dancer, of course! And now that I've met you in the flesh, I can see that you are indeed a beautiful woman, too."
"Thank you."
He gave me an appraising look up and down. "I do think, you know, that I might have something for you."
"Something for me?" I asked. "Like what?"
He stared at me with a slightly incredulous look, and then laughed. "Why," he said, "a part in my next holovid, naturally! I'm about to start work on a new musical comedy, and I need talented young dancers for some, ahem, key roles. Of course," he said with a sly wink, "I will need to see you in action first. An audition, as it were, if you follow my drift."
I felt quite sure where Norbert Nicolson's drift was leading, and didn't feel inclined to drift any farther with it. "Excuse me," I said, and took my grandmama to one side. "What's going on here?"
"Mr Nicolson is a top holovid director, my darling," she replied. "I told him you were an excellent dancer and that you were keen to break into the business."
"But— "
"Norbert Nicolson is highly respected in the holovid industry— "
"I don't— "
"He can open some very important doors for you."
"Oh, I bet he can!" I replied. "With the first one undoubtedly being the door to his own bedroom! Is this why you invited me here?"
"I just want what's best for you!"
"I'm twenty-nine! I think I'm old enough to decide what is and isn't best for myself!"
"Be reasonable— "
"Reasonable!"
"I thought if you could see all of this for yourself, you'd want to use your talent and be a part of it— "
"Oh!" I said, realisation dawning. "I'm starting to see you in a whole new light. This is about mama, isn't it?"
"Jemine— "
"This is you trying to get me to follow in your footsteps in place of mama."
"Jemine, listen to me— "
"This is you trying to rescue victory from the jaws of defeat, isn't it?"
"Don't be so melodramatic— "
"Mama once told me you resented the fact that she turned her back on a career in show business to go travelling with papa."
"Travelling? That wasn't travelling, that was bumming around the countryside as a common beggar! Eleanor could have done so much better for herself. She was a classically trained dancer, for Gaia's sake! She could have had a life of luxury and fame, but she chose to run away with that idle conman instead."
"Because she loved him!" I said. "She did it because it was what she wanted to do! Just as I'm now doing what I want to do. And I'm sorry if you can't see that."
"Eleanor would still have been alive today had it not been for that man!"
"Oh! That's not fair— "
"Why won't you see sense, Jemine? Why spend your life flitting about from star to star when you could be a star yourself?"
"Because flitting about from star to star is what I want to do! I told you, I'm a bounty hunter, not an actress!"
"A bounty hunter!" mocked grandmama. "Oh, my darling girl, you'll never amount to anything as a bounty hunter."
"Well, that's where you're wrong, because I happen to think I will. It may not be as glamorous as being a holovid actress, but I don't care. It's the life I've chosen to lead, and you had no right to... to..."
I stopped, suddenly aware that we had been shouting. The room had gone quiet, with all eyes turned towards us. Norbert Nicolson gave a strained cough, blinked twice, then spun on his heel and left. Grandmama glared at me angrily.
"You silly, stupid girl!" she hissed. "You've just ruined your big chance!"
"No," I said, more quietly. "I haven't ruined anything. That honour goes to you." I took off the diamond bracelets, necklaces and earrings that grandmama had loaned to me for the party, and dropped them to the deck. "You can have these back," I said, then walked towards Sam as quickly as my twelve centimetre House of Lalande heels allowed. "Put down that drink, Sam. We're leaving."
I gave my mother one last, venomous glare before marching out of the silenced bar.